There is a tin chicken dinner sign that hangs in my kitchen for a good reason: I make a fine fried chicken dinner. The sign was a gift from an old friend and it's been hanging in my kitchen since I moved to New Jersey, nine years ago this month.
The sign is both a reminder of fried chicken suppers past and (JT dearly hopes!) fried chicken suppers in the future. In that, it's a happy reminder of where I've been and where I'm going.
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